Thursday, July 24, 2008
Ranting is theraputic...
I just woke up from a short night's sleep. Four hours to be exact. I'm in a good mood even though in my groggy state I spilled a piping hot cup of coffee on my foot. Last night one of my kids decided that she was somehow going to magically grow her stomach in five minute intervals and pretty much shoot huge holes in any sleep theory's I may have been working on. It was about 5am when we were jolted awake by the savage cries of some wild animal that appeared to be inside of one of the bassinets.
We jumped out of bed fearing that a wild creature had eaten the child and was now suffering from a stomach ache. cautiously, I grabbed a pipe that I keep by the bed that was made especially for intruders and raised it over my head in case it lunged at me. We slowly crept toward it.
After lowering the creepy organ music that weirdly started playing out of nowhere, my wife and I pounced on the bassinet and saw the creature. It was writhing around and appeared to be somewhat uncomfortable.
"Feed it." Mrs. Robot said. Realizing that this could be dangerous I said a prayer to Saint Limby, the patron saint of all who have lost a body part and went for it. I picked it up and realized that this screaming monster was actually my child.
I fed her and she gulped every last drop of milk like it was the last drink she'd ever take. After a burp, she fell asleep and I placed her back in her little bed. Feeling every bit the champion, I raised my hands above my head, clasped them together and imitated the slow motion footage that is usually reserved for sports teams who won the championship.
All of a sudden the forest shook once again. The beast wanted more! I sluggishly made a new bottle and placed it on the warmer. Her cries were deafening. I tried to move swiftly to avoid rousing any other nighttime creatures, including my wife.
I repeated the usual steps: feed, burp, soothe, place in bed, but I could tell that this snarling animal wasn't going to go down without a fight. Was I ready for the challenge? I didn't know, but I was damn sure that I wasn't going to run with my tail between my legs.
After an intense battle between the forces of awake and sleepy I emerged victorious once again. I had slain the beast's appetite and laid it down for a night of uninterrupted slumber. Hooray!
You know how in some movies, like at the end where you think that the monster is dead, but then all of a sudden the fingers move or the eye blinks and then the credits immediately start to roll, basically telling you that this monster will definitely be back? Such was my life on this night.
The child will normally have about 3 ounces at that hour, but she was hungry in a way that I'd never seen before. At the end of it all she swallowed close to eight ounces whole. A world record in the Robot household.
Exhausted, I fell asleep at a little before 7:00am on the couch. I just woke up a little while ago and you know what? I'm so tired that I'm pretty sure that the cops could site me with being drunk in public. Maybe a shower will cure this?
Anyway, thanks for listening. This post was actually going to be a review of the Albert Hammond Jr. album, which honestly...was a big disappointment after his incredible first record.
I'm just saying...